Sun Hang walked toward Wang Xiyi.
He had only taken a few steps when he heard the wind howling in his ears. A pair of massive pincers erged from the dense steam, clamping down viciously toward Sun Hang's torso!
"Damn it, is this still not over?"
Sun Hang did not dodge but turned his body, opening his mouth toward the giant pincers.
His mouth tore all the way to his earlobes, and then his entire head flipped outward, revealing the blood-red mucous mbrane within... The next second, Sun Hang's body exploded with a boom, transforming into countless mycelia that surged toward the attacking pincers.
The pincers paused montarily, as if gripped by fear, attempting to perform its escape trick by turning into steam. But the mycelia moved far quicker—in the blink of an eye, millions of strands of mycelia had burrowed into the interior of the pincers.
The surface of each mycelium was covered with countless tiny pores, and a trendous suction emanated from within them. In just a few seconds, all the rainwater condensed into the pincers was thoroughly absorbed.
Each strand of mycelium swelled from its original noodle-like diater to the thickness of an arm, and from a distance, Sun Hang now resembled a massive sea anemone... even looking sowhat similar to those parasitic tentacles he had just vanquished.
The mycelia began to retract inward, and the human form reappeared.
Sun Hang wiped a few drops of rainwater from the corner of his mouth and then belched loudly.
The rainwater was not the actual body of the eerie entity. If one had to categorize this specter, it might be grouped as a "Xin"-type—energy-type specter.
After completely absorbing this specter, Sun Hang learned of its origins from its fragnts.
It was the "companion specter" of Chira 17.
During the "hatching" process of Chira 17, a significant amount of energy carrying residual fragnts overflowed from its body. These residual fragnts would mix into the rainwater used as a "coolant" and would disperse onto the ground—which was precisely why Sun Hang felt he could sense the specter's presence everywhere.
Among these residual s, so fragnts recombined, giving birth to a new kind of specter.
This specter could be considered a "descendant" of Chira 17, but it had little to do with Chira 17 itself.
It was like the dead skin and gri rubbed off during a person's bath turned into a new life form—saying this new life is a descendant of the person would be incorrect, but the new life indeed originated from that person taking a bath.
Sun Hang suddenly felt that his analogy might be a bit inappropriate...
If this thing was truly the gri rubbed off by Chira 17, then having just consud it ant Sun Hang had practically...
"Ugh..."
Sun Hang clawed at his throat, disgustedly spitting on the ground.
Sun Hang decided not to think about such a ss of things any longer. He quickly walked to Wang Xiyi's side and lifted her in a bridal carry.
The virus attached to the Scorpion Tail Needle was sowhat similar to the Reverse Potion; it would disrupt the original structure within a specter or an infected person. Until Wang Xiyi neutralized the virus, her own s would remain in a defective state—function loss was the least of concerns, and, over ti, this state might even solidify, permanently altering her structure.
This stuff was harmless to ordinary people, but to an infected person, it was like poison.
Of course, in Sun Hang's eyes, poison was still just a drink.
He could drink it.
He grabbed one of Wang Xiyi's hands and bit into her index finger.
The sharp fangs broke through the fingertip, vigorously sucking the dragon blood with its tallic sweetness.
Under Sun Hang's deliberate guidance, the virus within Wang Xiyi quickly converged and was subsequently swallowed into Sun Hang's stomach.
Her condition finally started to recover; the newly ford flesh sealed the gaping wounds that exposed bone and internal organs. The scales that had sloughed off her skin regrew, and the long dragon tail was once again ignited with a ghostly blue fla.
The surrounding rainwater had long returned to normal. Sun Hang held the woman in his arms in a princess carry, and in a daze, he suddenly felt a strange sense of temporal and spatial dislocation.
The sa night, the sa stormy weather, and the sa soft female body in his arms.
Sun Hang involuntarily held his breath.
He suddenly realized that he had unintentionally unlocked so of the mory fragnts buried deep in his mind.
The city of Tianfu was located deep inland on the Xiazhou Continent, over a thousand kiloters from the nearest coastline. Yet in the howling wind, Sun Hang slled the unique salty, fishy scent of seawater.
He dared not move, nor think recklessly. He didn't even dare to look down at the person in his arms to see if it was still Wang Xiyi.
He was terrified that the Three Apes might suddenly erge and reseal this mory.
He dared not do anything, rely standing quietly in the rain, holding the not-too-heavy body.
Sun Hang's eyes were wide open, expressionless, his mind emptied completely, allowing himself to sink into a mysterious state of ditation.
Though his eyes were open, they were entirely out of focus.
He knew it was raining, yet the surrounding scene was a blur, with even the nearby raindrops turning into abstract black and white lines cutting through the chaos of the scene.
He could no longer hear the sound of the rain and wind; the cold rain struck his face, plunging the whole world into dead silence.
He kept his lips tight, saying nothing, making no sound.
The fine mycelia acted like needles and threads, tightly stitching Sun Hang's lips shut.
This was Sun Hang's thod after the last incident with the Three Apes.
Given the Three Apes are titled as "See No Evil," "Hear No Evil," "Speak No Evil," rather than waiting for them to force him into "See No Evil," "Hear No Evil," "Speak No Evil," Sun Hang decided to proactively shut down his senses.
He did not need eyes to see, nor ears to hear, and the mouth was not needed to speak.
All he needed was his thoughts to feel... because these were mories belonging to him, things he once personally experienced.
He had seen, heard, and spoken about these things, but they had all turned into abstract streams of information, woven deeply into the curtain called "mory."
Sun Hang could feel his legs starting to move.
He was running.
He wasn't sure if he was running away or chasing, but ultimately, the faster he ran, the faster he beca.
The person in his arms had not lost consciousness; she held onto Sun Hang's neck tightly, speaking softly about sothing, sobbing as she went.
Sun Hang could not hear her voice, but he could discern the sound of her speech.
She was saying: Run, they're about to catch up.
She was saying: They want to devour us, for once they do, nothing in this world can stop them.
She was saying: It's okay to drop her, she'll hold them off for Sun Hang.
She was saying: Sun Hang could escape, run to where those things could no longer reach.
Sun Hang saw nothing; within those abstract black and white lines, so discordant marks started appearing, oddly shaped, moving swiftly, varying in size. Even though the mory only contained black and white, they imparted a feeling of filth.
They were like kaleidoscopic images with a thin layer of gri on the lens, constantly changing shape and color as the cylinder turned.
Also like shafts of light filtering through lush leaves, mixed with air-borne dust, with a glimpse of madness just barely visible.
[P.S. Over the past few days, I've been exhausted, and it seems my cold has worsened, leading to chronic pharyngitis. My throat constantly feels like it's obstructed, it's agonizing. Does anyone have any recomndations for alleviating dication? Please advise.]
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